


Eye of the Storm

by MarbleAide



Series: Airport Series [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Airports, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Hotel Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 18:31:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1658249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarbleAide/pseuds/MarbleAide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A storm keeps Thorin and Thranduil from getting home, so the pair end up spending the night in a hotel until the next flight out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eye of the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Part of an Airport series of different characters being either stuck in airport or meeting in airports. If you want me to do a pair for you, hit me up! 
> 
> I don't own the characters and all mistakes are my own.

Their layover went from three hours to overnight in what felt like five minutes. Sure, the weather was bad, but Thorin always suspected their much longer delay was partially caused to Thranduil having just a few moments ago called the supervisor ‘incompetent’. That was, of course, also after he had gone through the two very unfortunate desk attendants—one out of sight now, presumably to finish up crying, and the other standing beside her supervisor looking equal parts offended and ready to finally reach over to bash Thranduil’s head in. And, to be honest, Thorin would not be surprised. In fact, he’d probably enjoy watching it greatly.

This whole mess came about because of a business conference that just had to be held all the way out on the other side of the world in Las Vegas, Nevada. He wasn’t much of a vacation person in the first place, so when he was sent off trying to conduct business with both his competitors and peers while half of the room was drunk while the other half hung over, Thorin knew he wasn’t exactly in for a nice, relaxing long weekend. Though, the hotel room was nice, the numerous and quite unnecessary always-bright lights of the strip where just a little bit too much. That, and Thorin wasn’t really one for heat.

And there was the fact that Thranduil of Mirkwood Co., his largest competitor and asshole extraordinaire not only ended up on the same flight as him coming from England, but also on the way back. Somewhere between the flight from Vegas to JFK they’d become travel companions even though Thranduil was making the traveling part a little difficult. 

“Unbelievable!” Came the almost too-shrill voice to Thorin’s ears, making him wince before looking up to find Thranduil angrily shoving his phone back into his pocket. He had either just called his assistant or the corporate of their airline. Whichever one it was, it seemed the result wasn’t exactly what Thranduil had in mind. “I can’t believe we’re stuck here until ten tomorrow—“

Thorin finally cut him off, unable to listen to that voice much longer. “You do realize it’s because there’s currently a storm raging outside, right? Not because the airline decided to fuck you over? Though, with how you just treated them I wouldn’t be surprised if they did.”

Thranduil glared. “Are you implying something?” He hissed, snatching up his computer bag once more, throwing it over his shoulder.

“Yes, actually,” Thorin gave his retort without missing a beat. “I’m implying that you’re a right prick.”

They glared at each other for a long while after that, which made the people around them start to stare. Just because they were traveling together didn’t mean they had stopped hating each other. Because they still did, obviously, for a few reasons more than just being competitors in the same business.

“Right then,” Thranduil broke the silence and glaring match after a while (that is, before their aggression could turn into a full on brawl, because they hadn’t resorted to throwing punches since they were both in Uni, but it was still very much a possibility and Dwalin wasn’t exactly present to break it up right now. That, and Thorin figured an even better way to delay their travels was to get arrested by the TSA). “I have half a mind to leave you out in the hallway tonight.”

Thorin blinked. “What?”

“The hallway. While I was being a prick, as you put it, I managed to get up a room in the adjoined hotel. The last room, seeing as the rest of the people here also aren’t leaving anytime soon. So, you can sleep in the hall for all I care.”

The taller man doesn’t wait for a reply or reaction, simply letting out a small ‘tsk’ with a roll of his eyes and he moved on as gracefully as he always did. In turn, Thorin too rolled his eyes and followed along with his backpack over one shoulder. It wasn’t an empty threat, he knew, but it was getting late and they’d already been for the entirely of that day, both tired, so Thorin knew if he just followed close enough and got inside the room Thranduil wouldn’t kick him out.

This was true, leaving the airport and taking a short taxi ride over to their hotel to get their room as quickly as possible—a double thank god—with Thranduil saying nothing as Thorin took up one of the keys. There wasn’t much conversation along the way, either in the car or in the elevator ride up to their room, and both men gave out sighs of fatigue once finally inside.

Thranduil claims the bed closest to the window, to which Thorin has no argument because he prefers being closer to the door. He’s throwing off his jacket, unzipping his bag to pull out his carry-on toiletry bag he always packed for just these occasions, prepared to go straight to bed, but hearing Thranduil just a few feet away makes him pause. The blond is on the phone again, but this time it doesn’t sound like he’s talking to his assistant.

“—I’m aware and I’m trying my best to get back. There’s been bad weather, it’s out of my hands—yes, I’ve looked at every airline. Do you really think I’d purposefully miss this? Legolas—“

Thorin doesn’t like eavesdropping, so he pushes himself up from the bed and pads his way into the bathroom, closing the door behind him so Thranduil’s voice is muffled enough he can’t make out his words. Even so, on instinct, he pulls out his own phone in the privacy of the bathroom and rereads through the few texts he’s been sending to his sister for the last two hours.

 >Thorin;   
                -10:42pm, _Flight’s been delayed 2 hours._  
                -10:55pm, _3  
_ >Dis;  
                -10:57pm, _any other option?  
                _-10:58pm, _you’ll miss the party_  
>Thorin;  
                -11:01pm, _All the flights have been grounded. Can’t get out until the morning, be back around 6 at the earliest.  
_ >Dis;  
                -11:04pm, _they were looking forward to you being here_  
>Thorin;  
                -11:15pm, _I know, I’m sorry._

He sighs heavily, putting the phone away and starts to brush his teeth. He thinks he sort of knows how Thranduil is feeling right now.

—-

They haven’t said a word to each other in a little over an hour now. They’re both under their separate covers, the lights turned off with their bodies turned away from the other, the only light coming from the glow of the street outside the window. Neither of them are actually sleeping, even though they should be given how tired they are, but their state of awakeness is given away by their uneven breathing (even though Thranduil tries hard to mask it, Thorin has known him long enough to see through that bullshit).

There’s an awkwardness in the air that doesn’t make sense, but then again they hadn’t exactly shared a room like this since their first year at University together. It sort of felt like that second night all over again, after the rush and excitement of the first night dissipated, leaving that sudden feeling of change and milestones heavy in their bones.

Finally, with a dry throat and a rough voice, Thorin speaks into the darkness, sort of hoping Thranduil will be listening.

“I’m missing a birthday party.”

His voice is gone just as soon as the words are out of his mouth, leaving the dim room in silence. He doesn’t dare repeat himself, doesn’t dare to turn or even shift in the bed.

“He’s graduating tomorrow.”  Thranduil finally answers and Thorin doesn’t have to ask who it is. He’s known Legolas since he was little, since before his mother died, so he knows what that means and how much missing his son’s graduation must hurt. Thranduil might be many things, a right bastard sometimes, but he does try his damnest to be a good father (even if he ends up failing on many occasions, and Thorin knows better than most how much Thranduil hates himself for it).

Thorin says nothing to this, let’s the silence speak for him, knowing Thranduil will understand his apologies in it.

“Who’s is it?” Thranduil asks then, surprisingly. “Of your nephews? Fili’s or—“

“Kili’s.” Thorin finishes, lettings his lips tug up into a half-smile as he thinks of the two. “He’s turning eight tomorrow.”

“I’m surprised,” Thranduil says and Thorin is outright surprised to find the edge of his voice filled with amusement. “I always thought those two would end up getting themselves killed before either could get out of diapers.”

It’s teasing and honest all at once, easily breaking whatever discomfort had fallen over the room, bringing Thorin’s smile out even further, enough so he makes a quick decision which he is sure to get him in trouble in about two minutes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Thranduil asks suddenly, having turned around when he heard Thorin rise out of bed and start shifting the furniture around—dragging the nightstand from in between their beds out of the way enough that he can shove his own bed away from the wall, pushing until it bumps up against Thranduil’s.

“Remember—back in Uni, I mean,” Thorin’s still smiling as he crawls back into bed, now invading Thranduil’s space, only enough that he’s laid at the seam of their beds, dragging blanket and pillows with him to get comfortable. “Before we started hating each other, that first week we said we’d push our beds together at some point. Study, watch tv or eat or read, whatever, and we never did. So…here.” He settles down again, staring at Thranduil. “Call it making up for old time’s sake, hu?”

The blond just stares back at him for a moment, two, but says nothing about how stupid this was, how childish, and after a few more heartbeats he falls back into his own pillows, pulling his own blankets up over his shoulders. He says nothing, just huffs a little bit, which Thorin knows is a good sign.

Within fifteen minutes, Thranduil has kicked away his blankets and sheets to steal up Thorin’s. Another half hour after that, he moves closer—surely to claim more warmth—and presses back against Thorin’s chest. He doesn’t complain when Thorin moves his arms to wrap around his slimmer frame, pulling him even closer, says nothing about how this was not at all their intention back in Uni.

They both fall asleep like that, curled up against each other with their beds pushed together in odd hours of the night.

—-

It’s still early when Thranduil wakes up (he’s never been able to sleep well in hotels), the sun just making itself known through the window. He assesses the situation slowly, noticing first how warm he is—pleasantly warm. Warm in the way that makes you not want to move, and knows it had little to do with the sheets tangled at his feet and everything to do with the strong arms still wrapped around his abdomen, the solid chest at his back, warm breath tickling his neck. He finds it almost funny that neither of them move much in their sleep. It feels good being this close to Thorin—for the time being, that is, because this could never last, never can, they talked about it once years ago when they were young and naïve. Even now though they weren’t very young anymore, they were still naïve in such ways that Thranduil wouldn’t dare press such boundaries outside the walls of this hotel room.

But, for the time being, he would cherish such a moment and take advantage of whatever opportunities were given to him. So Thranduil made a decision of his own.

“Ah— _fuck!_ ”

It is sort of embarrassing, how easy it is to make him hard, and he’s quite pleased with the reaction he got, cursing and arching, but not pulling away in the slightest. Thranduil would surely tease him for it later, how much of a teenager Thorin still was, but right now he had something to take care of. Besides, his mouth was full.

“ _Fucking hell_ , Thranduil! Can’t you at least warn a guy before— _ahhh!”_

It may be cheating of course, but Thranduil finds it surprising how fast Thorin shuts up when his dick is getting sucked. All coherent thought flying right out the window as Thranduil uncurls his fingers around the base, sliding down an extra inch and hollowing his cheeks.  Thorin is panting, thrashing, hands curled in the blankets before it’s not enough and he grabs at Thranduil’s hair instead, knowing full well the blond will yell at him later for the rough treatment as he pulls the strands, pressing down just a little bit more and can literally feel how much deeper his cock slides back into Thranduil’s mouth. It’s all hot and heady and the very best way to wake up.

The shock from it all makes Thorin feel erratic, urgent, and it’s not long before his hips are thrusting as much as Thranduil will allow, deeper and deeper until he can feel the head of his cock hitting the back of the other’s throat and just as soon as he does the muscles contract around him.

Thorin throws his head back, moans, and pulls Thranduil’s hair even more, fisting the softness and petting at Thranduil’s head, muttering how good he feels and cursing up a storm, telling him he’s going to come any second now.

So, in reply, Thranduil speeds up his ministrations. He bobs his head, taking Thorin’s cock as far as he can into his throat and swallowing whenever he could. He drooled down the shaft, dripping from his chin, and felt completely dirty because of it, but far too gone now to be embarrassed.

Luckily, he didn’t have to worry too much more, because with a final hard suck Thorin’s back bowed and with a deep seated groan he came hot right down Thranduil’s throat.  

He swallowed the bitter taste down, drinking Thorin in before pulling away to cough, wiping his the back of his hand across his mouth.

“Next time,” Thorin pants out, his head pressed back into the pillow as he trying to catch his breath. “Maybe a kiss good morning first.”

At this, Thranduil simply rolls his eyes, leaning up to press a quick peck at Thorin’s cheek. “Next time, I’m putting my dick in your mouth.” He replies, all haughty and smooth.

Thorin smiles just because he can, sitting up to watch Thranduil move off to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

If there ever is a ‘next time’.


End file.
